They say that there is no bond stronger then that between a mother and her children. How I wish that were true. I would love to be one of those people who proudly declare their mother as their best friend. I wish I could run into your arms and cry my heart out. I wish that I looked to you for inspiration and hope. Oh how I wish so many things.
But unfortunately none of them are meant to be.
I love you. That I can’t deny. But I want, I need more.
As a child I thought you were mean and unkind. As an adult I know better. The burden you carried, the problems you faced and loneliness you lived through. I now know that it wasn’t entirely your fault. But it doesn’t change anything, the damage is done. The hole inside me is too big to fill and too deep to ignore.
I want to be a different mother to my children but I’m afraid I don’t know how. After all, I am the product of what you made. Oh how I wish you could teach me another way.
You’re far away and I miss you. I miss the concept of family, the physical support and presence in my life, but nothing more. And maybe this is what’s keeping me up. Keeping me going.
You’ve helped me. Not to depend on anyone. Not to look for comfort and emotions. Be practical. Don’t lean, don’t look for support. And it’s keep me strong. But it’s keeping me hollow.
Mommy, I miss you, I love you. But more importantly I miss and ache for what could have been.
Written in response to the Daily Prompt: Dear Mom